


Love Bug Express (Mail Delivery Service) - Part Five

by ladydragon76



Series: Love Bug [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: bob, character: getaway, character: hound, character: mirage, character: skids, character: sunstreaker, character: swerve, character: whirl, genre: fluff, genre: humor, verse: idw, warning: au, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Thank you for choosing Love Bug Express for your delivery needs.  Our Delivery Specialist is the best bug in the business.  No one offers a better price, attention to detail, or is as dedicated to customer care as the Love Bug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Bug Express (Mail Delivery Service) - Part Five

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoughtsdemise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** Love Bug  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Characters:** Bob, Crew of the Lost Light  
>  **Warnings:** Sugar Shock?  
>  **Notes:** This series commissioned by ThoughtsDemise, and too fun to write! Thank you, darling! I hope you like it!

Bob crept closer to the loud mech, his belly low to the floor. Whirl made him _very_ nervous, and he wasn’t at all happy about having to deliver an info chip to him. He peeked back over his shoulder again, antennae drooping, but First Aid made another shooing motion, and the insecticon obeyed. He would just give this to Whirl, then run off and find…

And find…

Well, someone. He would remember once he was done with the loud and pointy mech.

Bob chirped softly for attention, but Whirl’s laughter and the general noise of the bar drowned out the quiet sound. Maybe he could do this without even being noticed? Yes. He would try that.

Ever so cautiously, the insecticon wriggled his way in between the stools, and leaned up against the front side of the bar. He balanced on his back legs and reached until his foreclaws gripped the edge above him. Ducking a wild swing of an arm nearly sent him crashing back to the floor, but after a moment he was able to pull himself up and reach high enough to slide the info chip in front of Whirl. Dropping back down, he scuttled off to the far side of the room to hide under a convenient table just in time to hear Whirl’s booming exclamation.

“Whoa! The frag?!”

“Who gave _you_ a love letter?” Swerve asked with a laugh.

“Rust out, fragger. I’m amazing.” Whirl yanked a datapad from his subspace and plugged in the info chip to read it as silence washed through Swerve’s. All respiration was held. No glasses clinked. Nobody even moved. So when Whirl asked, “There’s fanfic about me?” Everyone heard him. “Ok. So there’s fiction about me, and someone wants to- Oh.” He chuckled, the tone sounding rather risqué all on its own. “That’s _dirty_ ,” he purred, and then stood up, helm finally lifting so he could look around the bar. “Fess up, you kinky glitch, and I’ll make all your fantasies come true.”

No one moved for a long moment, but then laughter exploded throughout the bar.

“Frag all of ya,” Whirl declared and held the datapad aloft. “I’m gonna go find this mech, and you’ll all know who he is tomorrow cuz he ain’t gonna be able to walk right for a week.” His free pincer was jabbed at the crowd, a narrow yellow optic glaring around balefully for a moment, and then he stomped out.

It took a while for the noise level to drop back to something that could be called ‘normal’, and Bob remained under the table, plating clamped in close, antennae laid back. That had been harrowing. He didn’t mind noise, but that mech was a bit scary. The insecticon would almost rather have to face Ultra Magnus again.

“Hey, Bob.”

Bob squealed and tore out from under the table, though he didn’t get far.

“Ow!”

“Easy, Hoist,” Swerve said. “I think I scared him is all.”

Hoist wobbled on one leg as he rubbed at the scrape the insecticon gouged into the plating over his ankle. “I know, and I wasn’t trying to yell at him.” He gave his ankle one last rub, then squatted down beside Bob and Swerve. “My apologies, Bob.” The insecticon was given a pet on his helm, and then Hoist pointed. “Oh, looks like he has more deliveries too.”

“Yeah?” Swerve stepped around and held out his hand. “Any for me?”

Bob’s antennae lifted just a little. Did he have one for Swerve? Maybe he was the one this last chip was supposed to go to? Bob chirped, sitting up better to offer the info chip. There. All done.

“Good boy!” Swerve cheered, and then quickly plugged in the chip to a datapad to read it. His squeal echoed through the bar over the buzz of conversation.

“Swerve got one?” someone asked.

Hoist twisted around to nod, and pointed at the insecticon. “Bob just delivered it.”

“Cool,” Hound said, and plopped into a seat at the next table over. “Who’s it from?”

Swerve shook his head. “No idea, but I gotta find him. He says he’s always desired me and wishes he had the courage to say it to my face.” He stood up. “I gotta go look for him though. It says that if I think I can love someone back, to come find him.” He bounced in place, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Ahh! Someone help me! This from any of you guys in here?”

Helms around the bar shook, and Swerve’s shoulders sank down a bit before he caught sight of Bob still sitting at his feet. “Bob!” The insecticon’s antennae swept back, but Swerve grabbed his helm. “Bob, you wonderful, perfect little monster, you! Who gave this to you? Take me to him? Lead on, Bob. Good boy. Go.”

Bob hesitated, optics bright and helm tipped. Go? Ok. He trundled past Hoist and Hound, then angled toward the door. He glanced back, confused by the crowd of mechs following him, Swerve in the lead, but didn’t stop. He’d been told to go, so go he would. Most of them wouldn’t even fit in the lift with him.

“Wait. I know where we’re going,” Trailcutter said as they stepped off the lift and continued down the hall.

Bob poked the code for his den, and walked in. He gave Sunstreaker a chirr of greeting, then hopped up on their berth to snuggle in against his master.

“The slag is this?” Sunstreaker demanded, and Bob huffed a protest as he was shoved aside so the mech could sit up.

Swerve held out the datapad. “I could totally love you.”

“You brought the usuals from the bar to tell me that?” Sunstreaker asked.

“Well…” Swerve glanced behind him. “Not really on purpose, but everyone was just as excited as me to see who sent me this.” He waved the datapad at Sunstreaker again.

“Not me. All of you get the frag out.” Sunstreaker sank back onto his berth and stretched out. Bob settled in again as his master lifted his own datapad to continue reading.

“But Bob led us here,” Swerve protested.

“He only hunts for me.” Mechs shifted around, sharing looks, and Sunstreaker sighed. “I think Bob’s done enough for you guys. Let the bug have a nap.” Pits, the insecticon was already purring and half asleep. “Get out of my room.”

“I can help, Swerve,” Hound said. He gave Sunstreaker a nod, got one in return, and shooed everyone out the door. Once it was closed, he held out his hand to Swerve. “Let me see the chip itself.” Swerve handed it over, and Hound gave it a sniff.

“The Pit are you doing?”

Hound sniffed it again, then frowned. “I… Hm. This way.” Swerve followed as Hound started walking. Some of the mechs dispersed, but a handful of others trailed along with them. Every now and then Hound would stop, sniff the chip, then sniff the air or a wall before moving on.

“Oh. I know where I’m going.” Hound strode faster down a corridor, and then stopped in front of a door. “This is the one. Knew it smelled familiar.”

Swerve took the chip back. “Thanks.” He gave them all a nervous smile and cycled his vents. “Here goes.” He pressed the call button, and rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Yes?” Mirage said as he opened his door, then noticed everyone standing there. “Oh my.”

“I got your message.” Swerve thrust the chip up under the former noble’s nose, a wide grin on his face. “Credit where it’s due.” He waved at Hound. “I had some help.”

“Oh dear.” Mirage took the chip, gaze jumping from face to face. “I am so sorry, Swerve. I sent this message for another.”

“Oh,” was the crestfallen response.

“I am sorry,” Mirage repeated. He held out the chip, face shading pink as he offered it to Hound. “It was meant for you.” The green mech took it with a quiet sound of surprise. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes. Definitely.” Hound put his hand on Swerve’s shoulder. “You ok?”

Swerve smiled, his laugh sounding entirely too forced. “Sure! Yeah, no, I’m great. This is adorable. You two are adorable. Go. Have… uh… fun.” He leaned in toward Hound and lowered his voice. “Details later, hot stuff.” Turning back to the others, Swerve waved his hands. “To the bar!”

Hound waved, then stepped into Mirage’s quarters. “So. I found you.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Mirage purred as the door hissed shut.

~

Trailcutter snuck away from the bar crowd for a quick side trip, and once he caught up, everything looked totally normal in Swerve’s. Mechs were drinking and chatting at tables and the bar, but luckily, Trailcutter’s usual seat was open. He made himself comfortable on the stool, and then called Swerve over. “Got something for you.” An info chip was held out with a grin.

“Heh. Thanks, buddy. We sure this one’s for me?” Swerve asked.

“Yep. Just wrote it myself.”

Swerve’s visor brightened, and he hurried to plug the chip in so he could read it. “…great high grade… always there…” He looked up and flashed Trailcutter a bright smile. “I am a good shoulder and audial, aren’t I?”

“The best,” Trailcutter replied.

~ | ~

Bob watched the comings and goings of his swarm from his master’s feet, just under the edge of a table in the gathering room. Sunstreaker and Ratchet were snuggled close in a back booth, occasionally grooming one another, but mostly snuggling and talking quietly. Everyone seemed so happy, and the insecticon enjoyed the peace as well as the attention he was still getting.

“Hey, love bug,” Getaway said with a laugh as he bent down to scritch Bob’s helm. “Want a treat, or are you all full from everyone else’s gratitude?” Bob was _always_ ready for more treats and sat up, antennae angled forward, and he snuffled at Getaway’s hand.

Sunstreaker leaned to the side to look under the table. “Primus. All you slaggers are going to make him sick, and guess what I’m _not_ going to do.”

Getaway laughed, and Skids knelt beside him, hands going straight to Bob’s helm to pet and scritch. “Who’s our good love bug? Bob? Bob’s our good bug?”

Bob chuffed and pushed into the attention, a low resonant purred starting up deep in his chest. Oh yes. He was a good love bug.

**Author's Note:**

> As Porky Pig would say, That's all Folks! I had a BLAST writing this, and all credit for it happening goes to ThoughtsDemise/Jenn-OddBallPunk for the commission. I hope you all enjoyed it, and no matter what kind of love it is, I hope you're surrounded by it this Valentine's Day! <3


End file.
